Ruminations

Your next burger?

Somewhere between Ferndale and Lynden last Sunday, I noticed a herd of cows - bulls and steers, beef on the hoof, actually - all clustering in one corner of a field. It struck me funny at first, the way they were all turned nose-in to the corner of the fence, with an acre of lush green grass behind them. But when I stopped to get out my camera, they all turned around and began walking toward me, staring ominously.

I thought of the song "Cows With Guns" and Orwell's Animal Farm, then Hitchcock's The Birds. That movie scared the pee out of me when I was a kid, and this herd started to make me seriously nervous. Strange, the things you find amusing on long rides, and the stuff that drifts through your mind.

I have been riding four to six days a week, building up my distance, to prepare for my vacation. I've also been reviewing my French from last year, though not very regularly or systematically. I do find random French phrases popping into my head while I ride, and sometimes I make a game of naming things, or talking to myself about ordinary day-to-day activities in French while I'm riding.





Riding alone does get to be a drag at times. It's hard to find people who want to ride as far, and as many hours, as I do, who aren't too competitive or too fast for me. I'm looking forward to riding with the tour group, and having someone to chat with, in English or French. I hope I fit in well.

Les Boeufs

It's a little odd that I always make my vacations into some sort of self-improvement trip. I took a week-long vacation to go to bicycle mechanic school, I do fund-raising rides, and now I'm training and studying for a bicycle tour. I can't do silly, hedonistic rest and recreation. I expect my vacations to be life-changing experiences. No wonder I don't travel much.